


Skyrim - One Shot Collection

by fiendinthenight



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Behavior, Erotica, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:55:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21777157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiendinthenight/pseuds/fiendinthenight
Summary: A divine mixture of one shots that I've been fantasizing about or have been requested. I only write F/M because of personal preference.
Relationships: Argis the Bulwark/Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Bishop/Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Brynjolf/Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Erik the Slayer, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Farkas, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Maul, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Ralof, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Ulfric Stormcloak, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Vilkas
Comments: 14
Kudos: 94





	1. Farkas - Trust

**Author's Note:**

> The hair raised on the back of your neck as your fingers wrapped around the bars of the cage you unintentionally locked yourself in. But that wasn't what made you tense - no, it was your companion shapeshifting into nothing other than a werewolf that set your world on fire. It was clear as the brisk cool waters of the rivers flowing through Skyrim - he served Hircine, a Daedra.

'Farkas told is what happened, Y/N.' Aela said as she stood in the doorway of the communal room where you had hunkered down in the corner bed, knees pulled up to your chest as you were pretending to be deep into the pages of a book. Aela cocked her head and gave an amused laugh as she stepped forward and tipped your book down with her index finger.

'Didn't take you for a smut-reader, welp.'A heat rose to your cheeks as you snapped the spine of the book closed and tossed it to the floor, realizing you'd grabbed a copy of the Lusty Argonian Maid from the shelf. You pleaded to the gods to have the floor swallow you whole so you wouldn't have to deal with this. First Farkas, now this? 'There is not much to discuss, Aela.' You were curt unintentionally with her, but Aela still hovered over you with her arms crossed in discontent.

'You're our shield sister, Y/N. We mean you to only understand. Farkas would like a word.' Aela nodded her head towards the door as she turned on her heels and walked away from you. Of course the big oaf would want a word. After pulling a stunt like he did when you were merely recovering a fragment of Wuuthrad from that damned cairn when a completely unfair ambush took you and Farkas by surprise while you were inconveniently trapped in a cell that you'd foolishly triggered, leaving Farkas to handle the swarm of 6 or 7 Silver Bloods. You slammed your eyes shut when you remembered the sight of Farkas transforming into a werewolf - like something out of a tale your mother retold nightly to keep you from breaking curfew or sneaking out in the night. You can remember the screaming, the smell of the newly spilled blood as your fingers curled around the bars of your temporary cell. Once the carnage died down and there was silence, Farkas the man, came to your rescue and harmed you not once. Why, then, were you so afraid of him suddenly?

You noticed, as the room went silent with the absence of Aela, that she did not leave you a moment to confirm or deny the invitation. Thus, you assumed it to be non negotiable and you stood from the bed, your hands brushing down the front of your form fitting hide breeches that were free from any armor. You had loosened the strings from the ankles to allow your barefoot to seek comfort and air, as the leather was constricting tied to fit under your boots. You relished in the feeling of the cold, stone floors of the Jorrvaskr basement. Being a Nord, the cold was familiar and therefore, a comfort.

A deep sigh fell from your lips as you pushed your bracers off your forearms and tossed them to your bed before loosening the tie to the corset you normally wore under your armor. You hadn't been back from fetching the Wuuthrad fragment for more than a couple of hours, night having just fallen when you arrived with Farkas hot on your heels.

The hallway felt a lot longer than it had ever felt since you arrived. Normally, you were up fairly early, knuckles tapping lightly on Farkas' door before he quickly would open it and display his full armor, much to your amusement. The two of you would spend time practicing your techniques and visiting Eorlund and discussing weapons and smithing. Farkas even accompanied you to the base of High Hrothgar before you ascended the 7000 steps. You were pleasantly surprised that the big lug had actually waited for you, patiently putting up with the boredom of the Inn in Ivarstead with not much else to do while you spoke to the Greybeards. That was weeks ago, but the sight you saw made you feel that your relationship with Farkas, wherever it was going, was derailed now.

You heard boots clanging against stone as you approached the room. Not a soul was around, save for you and the man you were now afraid to be near. Your heart fluttered as you heard his deep, baritone voice cursing and huffing while pacing the room. Fear took control of your body, yet you'd stood before his closed door dozens of times. You raised your hand to knock, but your fist faltered and nothing but fingertips brushed down - however, that was enough for the door to move giving your presence away.

'Welp?' Farkas called softly from behind the door, seemingly startled by your presence. You sighed, knowing you couldn't pretend you weren't there - he was a big lug, but the man wasn't stupid. Taking a deep breath, you stepped in more abs pushed the door open the rest of the way.

'Aela said you called for me.' The phrase was a statement, flat and semi stern, though you felt your voice was only just above a whisper. Farkash rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and motioned for you to take a seat. You looked at the bed, the seating he offered you, and then at the positioning of it to the door - there was no way you'd be that far away from an escape. Farkas sensed your apprehension and gave an exasperated nasally breath before he dodged past you and slammed his palms into the door.

'I would never hurt you, Y/N.' Farkas' hands remained on the door as his head hung heavily as if he were hurt by your sudden fear.

'You hunt for Hircine. You serve a Daedra, Farkas. I do not trust a Daedra.' You quietly spoke over your shoulder, as your peripherals picked up Farkas moving away from the door toward you.

'You are wise to not trust a Daedra. If only the Circle would have listened to such a thought. This is a curse on us, one some has chosen to view as a blessing. I cannot abide in that, Y/N, for when I die, I desire to go to Sovngarde for an eternity.'

You knew Farkas to be a Nord, but his curse tieing him to Hircine discounted his desire for an afterlife in Sovngarde. With a heavy sigh, you turned to face Farkas, though your eyes remained downcast. 'I don't know….'

'Y/N.' Farkas seemed to know where your thought was going, his large, strong hands gripped your shoulders tightly as he all but dove toward you. Your eyes widened and caught his blue eyed gaze immediately. 'It can be cured. Just, not now. I never meant to frighten you, but had I not allowed my beast to take over, I would be dead and gone, and divines only know what would've happened to you. I had to protect you...damned the cost.' Farkas' hands dug into your arms more, but the sharp pain was dulled by the pain in his eyes; he had thought about you, about what may have happened to you, and the thoughts were unbearable.

Without thinking, you pushed yourself up onto your toes and slammed your lips into his: the stubble on his face scratching at your lips as you felt Farkas loosen his grip on your biceps. With your eyes closed, you pushed yourself up just a little more before you finally felt Farkas move his lips and kiss you back. It was clear that he had little experience wooing a woman, however, you'd just stepped up to the challenge of taking a wolf - he could give a kiss, regardless of his skill.

You raised your hands up to grasp at the back of his neck. Shortly after your hands fiddled with the hair at the nape of his neck, you felt his strong hands come to your lower back and pull slightly into him. Frustration took over when you realised he was still in his full armor, having not had a moment to undress before summoning you for this discussion that was definitely not continuing at this moment. The cold armor pressed into you as if to remind you of the steel barrier separating you from Farkas. Though your intentions were rather innocent in stealing a kiss from the lycan - solely assuming you could tame him and show him the care you did, in fact, have for him - you had a warmth in your gut that either Farkas would need to tend to, or you would be left to your own devices.

You felt Farkas' battled hardened fingers graze the minuscule amount of skin peeking out from under your leader attire, your lower back being exposed to the cool chill if the room as his fingers danced across the top of your breeches, tempting and teasing as his rough exterior was patted down for a more subtle one.

'Y/N,' Farkas breathed out as he parted slowly from you, his eyes remaining closed as his forehead leaned into yours, tenderly. Without another thought, your fingers brushed down his scruffy cheek, finding every scar and knick on his young but weathered skin. Your touch was soothing, a moment that he wished he could capture in a vial and refill for future use daily - hourly, even.

'I would never hurt you, Y/N. My honor as a Nord would not allow it. You are too special, too kind...too much a woman after my own heart.' His hand brushed down the back of your head, tenderly pulling your forehead more into him as he raised his chin and captured your swollen needy lips once more. Your eyes fluttered closed, relishing in this moment as your hands moved to his shoulders and slid slowly down the intricately carved metal before burrowing into the fur the laid against his biceps. Skin on skin was what you sought, but you needed to taste more than just his face, and at this moment, your fingertips would have to be sufficient.

'Farkas,' it was your turn to breathe out his name as your hushed voice sent a pleasant heat shooting down into his gut. 'I trust you. The woman in me wants to give myself to you, to bed you like Sovngarde will welcome us within the hour. But the Nord in me, the most powerful part of me cannot trust a Daedric curse. I will stand at your side, curse or not. But I cannot give myself away to this, this corrupt being.'

Farkas' head dipped, nearly leaning on your shoulder but stopped to nuzzle his nose into your neck. You tried holding back a moan, knowing full well you were close to abandoning your morals and values to allow this man to take you, Daedric curse or not. Your hands moved to his chest, not quite sure if you were wanting to push him away or pull him closer, when you felt the deep rumbling in his chest and the whisper of his voice catch your ear.

'You are a far stronger Nord than I, my love. I knew from the moment my eyes laid themselves on you that I had to be near you, to know you, to hold you.' His grip pulled you in more, if that was even possible. Farkas let his chin raise again and his eyes burned deep into yours as if your soul was exposed and on full display for him. 'I don't blame you for this. Had I been wise as you, I would not be in service to damned Daedra. Promise me, you'll wait for me? For the cure?'

A tender smile spread over your lips, eyes slowly closing and opening. 'As Talos as my witness, I shall wait for you, love.'


	2. Ulfric - Fury  (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn lead the Peace Council, was supposed to stay neutral, and was not to show her relationship with Ulfric was nothing more than professional and superficial. She did just that, thought she did well and left none the wiser; but now, the bear is angry with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like the ending wasn't great. Sorry bout that...

Ulfric's hand gripped around the Dragonborn's wrist so tight she literally felt her fingers falling numb as the cold night air mixed with snowflakes cut into her face as he pulled her up the steps towards the Palace of the Kings. Guards kept their faces straight ahead, though the Dragonborn knew their eyes followed the stomps of the would-be High King as his focus was solely on making it to the Palace doors before he totally lost his cool.

She had attempted to speak when he yanked her out of the cart, but his deep robust voice silenced her immediately before he began dragging her through the streets of his city and toward his stone abode. The Nord woman felt a blush rise to her cheeks as Ulfric pushed on the large wooden doors and pulled her arm forcing her inside before him. 

'War room, now.' His voice cut through the dark silent room, her ears catching the straightening of guards backs as their heavy armor clinked against the walls they stood near. With her eyes downcast, she bit her lip and gave a slight nod, regardless of the fact he didn't see it because his back was turned to her.

As the Dragonborn walked slowly toward the room where Galmar and Ulfric planned their attacks, watched battle plans come into effect and kept track of the holds, she rubbed the back of her neck. The Peace Council went well, did it not? She thought that she made it clear she was trying to be neutral. There's no way Tullius saw her as a stormcloak, right?

As she stood in the room, her fingers brushed over the map as she plucked her fingers at the blue flags that laid across the map. Her eyes snapped to the door when she heard the huff of the angry Jarl enter and slam the heavy wooden door behind him. Immediately he walked over to a desk and slammed his fists on it, causing the Dragonborn to straighten her spine immediately and remove her hands from the map.

'Your actions were most becoming of a traitor, Dovahkhin.' Ulfric's head was lowered as he spoke, but the deep rumble of his voice was clear and defined as it reached her ears. 'Excuse me? You knew I was sworn to an impartial stance, my Lord.' Her fist clenched at the insinuation of being a traitor and sparks hissed before her mind focused on cold, not wanting to injure the Jarl should her magic come out of hand, literally.

'You gave them Riften, Dragonborn. For a damned minor hold.' His back straightened and his shoulders rolled as if to relieve aching muscles. No doubt he had many - the Peace Council was stressful, and the ride back to Windhelm was nothing short of torturous.

'Ulfric…' she tried to reach to the man but he turned around and furrowed his brow at her. 'Are you a spy? A Nord sent to sway my heart into thinking you are for Skyrim?'

'Ulfric. Never. I bleed for Skyrim, and if I must die for Skyrim, so be it. I could not let Tullius see through this, m'Lord. You know that. Should he find out, we would lose any negotiating power and the Dragonborn would be seen as taking a political stance for personal gain. I did not want this, but I needed their cooperation to summon and trap Odahviing to reach Alduin.'

'Skyrim and her people are of most importance, and you traded them for nothing.'

'Skyrim is dead if Alduin is not stopped!' The Dragonborn shounted and stomped her foot while maintaining her clutched fists, like an insolent child demanding their way. Her whole body tensed and her teeth clenched. Ulfric's love of his country was nothing short of admirable, but he seemed to forget they would all be gone, Tamriel and Nirn, if Alduin was not destroyed.

Ulfric's eyes narrowed as he stepped closer to her. Her fists clenched in preparation of using her cold spell to send a warning shot of harmless cold air toward him, knowing full well his Norse blood would protect him. 'You're insufferable.' Ulfric spoke softly. She felt his breath fan across her face as he spoke, his eyes downcast to look at her chest rise and fall rapidly, almost like she was uncomfortable under his gaze.

'And you are as thick headed a these stone walls, Stormcloak, however, it's done. I ejected that damned Thalmor from the meeting, though that was as much a selfish favor as it was a favor for m'Lord.'

Ulfric's finger twirled around a piece of the Dragonborn's long brown hair. She had let it down on the cart as the tightness of her braid was causing her scalp to feel like it was going to peel apart under the pressure. 'Calling me Lord does nothing but warm my loins, woman.'

It was true - his manhood stiffened at each regard of Ulfric as her Lord. He had been called it many times from many folk, however coming from her pouty, pink lips consistently made his breeches feel a tightness he nearly had forgotten about in his years of battling with the Imperials.

A slight smile tugged at the corner of the Dragonborn's mouth, ever so slightly as she tilted her head and leaned it back intising the burly man to nuzzle his nose into the crook of her neck - which he did, giving into the temptation to feel her deliciously soft skin against his bristled beard and inhale her intoxicating aroma.

'You think that is not a favor to me? After making you angrier than I have ever seen you before, I still manage to cause your breeches to tighten.' Her hand lowered and grazed over the hardness that had now formed prominently in his pants, much to her satisfaction.

'Our respective causes are more important than whatever this is, Ulfric. You know better than I how this situation becoming common knowledge could spell disaster for us both.'

His lips pressed into the pulse point on her neck, eliciting a delicious whimper from her as her knees almost buckled. Her hands pressed into his pauldrons as she felt herself falling to the ground at his touch. Ulfric pulled her hips toward him, bringing her pelvis to meet his. She felt her thighs clench together as if to calm the tingling sensation building within her core as his mouth nipped and kissed the flesh on her neck.

'Galmor thinks you to be a spy, my love.' Ulfric teased, though she was having nothing with the accusations of her being an imperial spy. She slapped her hands off his chest and stepped back, causing his hands to release the small of her back. Her fist clenched once more as a blue color began pooling around her hand, snow and ice swirling in succession preparing to be released at their target.

'Again with this debauchery Ulfric?'

'Your actions are proving him more wrong.' His voice was an octave lower now, his chin lowered and his eyes peering at her. That was it, her last straw. She was the Dragonborn. She demanded respect, even from the true High King. Her arm stretched out as her palm exposed itself, causing a sharp whirlwind of ice and snow to blast into Ulfric's chest. He stumbled back, his spine colliding with the table against the wall. His hands braced against the surface when a sly smile pulled at his fur covered lips.

'A choice most unwise, Dovahkhin.'

'I demand your res-'

'FUS' Ulfric's thum connected with her and sent her reeling back into the bookcase that laid on the opposite wall. She dropped to her bottom, her knees bent as she shook her head to collect herself. Did he really just use a thum? Against the Dragonborn? She rose to her feet quickly as she noticed Ulfric approaching her with haste, his fists clenched in retaliation.

'You jest, Dovahkhin. I respect you as much as I respect any woman. Your place is still beneath a man such as the High King.'

Oh, he knew that would get her blood boiling - he saw it in her eyes, the way they lit up with a fire made his breeches tighten once more. He was egging her on, doing this on purpose, but she was too enraged to see it.

Her hand grabbed a thick book from the shelf and immediately threw it at Ulfric's face, spine hitting him in his forearm as he brought it up to shield himself.

'Don't make me use my thum again, woman.' Ulfric tried hiding his smile but was caught off guard when the Dragonborn inhaled and exhaled hard with her very own thum.

'FUS!'

Ulfric stumbled, but his hand caught him as he dropped to one knee. His eyes caught hers and he smiled before lunging at her and grabbing her neck with his strong hands. Her normally elegant fingers were clawing at his wrists, trying to break the tense but not overpowering pressure on her throat. He had closed her windpipe just enough to show her he was in charge, but still allowed for her to breathe.

'An admirable opponent, for a woman. Such power in your thum, it matches my own.' Ulfric pressed his hips into her, letting her feel his arousal. Part of her wanted to get enough of a breath to push him off with another thum, but the other part of her was trying to keep her focus on breathing while tamping down the feeling of a fire burning within her core. Divines, but this man made her head spin.

'A woman I may be,' she spewed through clenched teeth, 'but dragon blood flows through my veins. I am no mere woman.'

He bared his teeth to her, pearly and white: teeth that would probably tear Imperial flesh from its bones had he no weapon. Before she could even think, his lips came crashing sloppily onto her own. Her eyes slammed shut as she felt his hands drop from her neck and swiftly undo the leather cord that was tightening her breeches to her body before Ulfric exposed himself, his lips not removing themselves from the Dragonborn for fear she say something stupid to shut off his fire.

In a swift motion, Ulfric's hands grasped under her thighs and she gave a little jump before wrapping her legs around his midsection, her back once again connecting with the bookcase, but this time it was more pleasurable than a thum to the chest. Without wasting another moment, Ulfric plunged himself deep into her with one thrust. Her mouth dropped agape and a mewl escaped her lips as Ulfric let her adjust briefly before attacking her hips with his own.

The Dragonborn's hands wrapped around Ulfric's shoulders, keeping her at his eye level as her green eyes molded to his baby blue ones, loving the deep intense stare he was giving her while driving her over the edge; his manhood thrust in to the hilt of her body causing her walls to grapple him tightly, her hand slapping down against the spines of books that soon toppled off the shelf. Ulfric bit down on her neck like a damned animal, causing a yelp to escape her lips.

'Ulfric.' Her voice fell from her lips with a slight influx at the end when ulfric had plunged into her once more, his climax coming closer and closer. Though the feeling was divine, the positioning of their bodies euphoric, and the way Ulfric captured her in a fortuitous moment was close to sending her to her peak…close…

It was as if her voice caught his attention and made him remember he had a partner to tend to, not just his own end to reach. Desiring to not be the selfish host, Ulfric reached his one hand slowly up her shirt, the fabric stretching as his hand rose up across the small clothes that covered her aching bosom. With a tug, he freed her breast from its confines of the small clothes and he took hold of it in his hand before nibbling through her shirt onto it. He was thanking the divines that she had worn a light linen shirt under her armor to the Council, for had she not this would be rather displeasing for him, for her body had long since beckoned to him. With a clamping down of his teeth, the Dragonborn all but screamed before Ulfric's hand tightly slammed down over her mouth, his hips erotically slapping into her faster and faster.

'Can't wake the whole palace my love.' He whispered into her ear with an unsteady voice, wavering as his body pushed and pulled into her core. She gave a wide eyed nod and Ulfric's hand removed itself before he grabbed hold of her thighs once again for better thrusting, seemingly closer as his speed increased.

'Call me your Lord.' He huffed out. She loved his control, loved his demand, and breathed into his ear 'harder, my Lord.' Causing him to be pushed over the precipice and into a state of orgasmic shock - his hips increasing before he suddenly stopped and pushed in and out a few times, riding down from the high. Ulfric released her thighs and she removed them from around his waist, though his body remained pressed into her even after his manhood was removed from her dripping heat.

His nose nuzzled into her neck as he peppered her with kisses - the Dragonborn sending her fingers to tousle the yellow mane of the beastly man. 'My heart I have given you, Dovahkhin. Do not make me a fool to trust my own kind.'

She cupped his face with her hands and pulled him to force eye contact with her, his orbs full of Skyrim's bluest waters stared down at her as she searched them. 'I have been sworn to keep Skyrim safe, m'Lord. Your heart is safe, as I trust mine is with you.'


	3. Maul - Errand Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are a worker at the Bunkhouse and are reluctantly sent on an errand to deliver a payment to Maul on behalf of Haelga, at night, and you're not super thrilled at the idea. But, it ends up being pretty worth it.

The Bunkhouse in Riften was something like a home - if home meant you hated being there every waking moment and you often prayed to the Divines that the building would be struck by a bolt of divine lightning and burn to the ground - then yeah, it was home.

You worked for Haelga for a couple of months now, sometimes cleaning around the 'inn', and sometimes playing entertainment for the drunken workers and merchants who would stop for a night's rest on their way through the town and preferred company. The Bee and Barb was usually where most upstanding persons would stay, however Kreeva seemed to run a tight ship and any illicit acts were not going unnoticed by the argonian woman. Haelga, on the other hand, was a woman who dabbled in less than favorable endeavors, even delighting in the company of men and women herself - not unheard of and it honestly didn't bother you. When you'd walked through her doors that one morning, Haelga noticed how the men ogled you, and though she was not running a brothel, she was also not going to turn down any amount of coin thrown her way. She needed attractive maids to bring in the working man, and you happened to be a woman who could literally bring them in.

You needed a job after leaving home. Though your parents desired your help on the farm, you knew it wasn't something you wanted for yourself. No, you needed to make a name for yourself as something other than a farmer's wife or a breeding machine. Riften was at least a full day by cart, and 4 days by foot from home - it was perfect and its unappealing rumors made you want to go there more. It was almost enticing you with its shady call, the allure of the thieves guild mixed with the political upheaval of the Black Briars trying to take over. What you wouldn't give to be mixed up in some sort of dramatic game of cat and mouse. But no, you couldn't get a word in with the Thieves Guild, plus you were already on bad terms with the Black Briars after slapping Maven's handsy son one evening when he had a few too many and grazed your backside with a bit more force than you cared for.

So here you were, broom in hand as you tended to the dirty floor beneath you, the sound of gold coins clinking as Haelga counted her day's earnings behind the desk.

'Y/N.' Haelga barked as you sighed, having been interrupted for the umpteenth time that afternoon. You knew the evening would bring a flood of hungry, tired and lonely working men looking to wet their beaks and flirt around, though that part of the job you hated since you told Haelga you wouldn't bed a random man for coin - she never forced you to, but you could tell you were more of a glorified slave than a hired hand.

'Yes, mistress?' You leaned the broom against the wall and walked over to Haelga who held a brown coin purse in her palm, ready for the taking. Your brow raised as you glanced between the blue eyed woman and the money she held out to you.

'Grelka is ill, so this befalls on you. Take this to the dock. Give it to Maul. He'll know what it's for.'

'But, Haelga it's nearly dark. I would hate to be mugged and have your gold stolen from me. Can it wait until morning?' Part of you was genuinely concerned over being mugged - particularly in Riften, you'd seen at least 3 robberies in the fortnight when you were out in the market in broad daylight. Having not much free time in the evenings, you tended to be cooped up in the Bunkhouse, safer than out in the streets. You also knew if you were robbed, Haelga would make you repay the money, though it would be no fault of your own if you were robbed.

Haelga stifled a laugh and merely rolled her eyes, shrugging as she tossed the coin purse on the counter. 'Your excuses are invalid, Y/N. Get it done. Then you can take the rest of the night off. Unpaid, of course.'

There it was - that carrot dangling in front of your eyes. You sighed and scooped up the purse and turned on your heels to grab your cloak before heading out into the chilled streets.

Dark was just starting to fall as the sky stopped giving off a robust amount of light, but it still had slight tinges of orange and pinks amid the darkening sky. Your fingers nimbly pulled your hood up as you tried to .ake yourself look and feel as small and insignificant as possible. Your hans patted your belt, noting that the coin was safely tucked on your waist and under your long cloak - a bit of a difficult feat to slip the coin without your knowledge, you figured.

A huff of air was released from your mouth as you looked to the right, noting that you had a short trek through the marketplace before you had to leave the walls of the city. Within the walls, safety was relatively sanctioned - the guards did their best to see the culprits apprehended and goods returned to their owner, but the thought of a mugging was most unwelcome. However, getting beyond the walls meant more danger.

Your shoes clicked against the cobblestone streets as you caught glances from the shopkeeps who were closing up shop, locking away their valuables and loading carts to be taken back within their shops. Balimund gave a friendly nod your way as you returned it with a kind smile and nod as well. As you reached the gate, you took a deep breath and unlatched the door before pushing the heavy 9wood open and exited the safety of Riften.

The temperature felt as though it had dropped a good 10 degrees. The wind was chilled as it came off the cool waters, and you clutched your cloak tightly with one hand, as if it made a real difference in keeping the chill off your skin.

It was an adventure in paranoia. You felt every shadow held a secret, a person waiting to attack. You wondered if working at Haelga's Bunkhouse set the spook off inside you, as you would often hear shady men speaking of their dealings with plain old fashioned highway banditry. As you took a step forward to round a corner, a large hand grabbed at your arm and pulled you around the corner before your back slammed against the wall of a building. The wind was knocked from your chest in one swoop as you literally saw stars flutter around your vision. Barely unable to comprehend what was happening, you tried to lift your hand to your head only to notice it was being held firmly at your side. When you looked up, you were taken aback by the intimidating man standing before you.

'Where's Grelka?'

Your eye lids fluttered a few times before you returned back to earth and clued in to what he was speaking about - the coin delivery.

'I...Haelga sent me. Grelka is ill, and I guess this was important.' You went to loosen the purse from your belt but the man grabbed your hand and stopped you in your tracks. 'Inside. Maul's waiting.'

You gave a tight nod and proceeded while the man kept watch for any stragglers who may be lurking about. Once inside, you pressed your spine against the door as you softly closed it and caught your breath. Thankfully, the dimly lit room was oddly relaxing rather than intimidating. It seemed as though someone had just curled up in front of the fire with a book. A desk was adjacent to the door while a fire was blazing at the other end of the room. What you thought may have been a workshop was more of an office than anything.

'Y/N?' You heard the deep, booming voice of Maul come from around the corner as you lowered the hood from your cloak. You smiled kindly and reached to release the coin purse from your belt.

'Haelga sent me.' You extended your hand and offered the coin to him, for whatever it was Haelga owed him for: you honestly rather not know. Maul was still caught off guard, taking a moment before he sent his body toward you and took the purse from your hand.

'You're a sight for sore eyes, Y/N.' Your back had turned to exit the building, but you stopped when you felt a blush rush up over your cheeks. Turning around you were thankful for the dim lighting of the room.

'Grelka usually comes by and by the divines does the wench complain.' Maul tossed the coin onto the desk, not really caring where it landed. It would seem as though Haelga was more concerned about her payment than Maul.

'She, uh, she is definitely not satisfied in her duties, though she blames the wrong person, I s'pose.' You tried being as polite and didnt wish to speak ill of a friend, but Maul was right - the woman hated her job, hated her cousin, and hated the patrons. But instead of going out and changing her situation, she just stayed in it, spread her legs and complained.

'Besides, the woman's been trying to bed me for months now. It is beginning to grow old hearing her distasteful tactics.'

'She hates her cousin enough she would see it as leverage of sorts. Not most becoming of a woman, though, at times I question if she cares about her honor.'

Maul gave a half smile at you which sent a butterfly parade to dance about in your stomach. The man was a tower of a man - built firm, strong and well endowed in the looks department. He would be a decent man to have at any woman's side - to watch over her, provide for her and give her a full quiver of children. A heat rose in your chest but you quickly tried to tamp it down as Maul ushered you more into the room.

He took your cloak from your shoulders and handed you a bottle of Black Briar mead - the same stock Haelga had in her bunkhouse but never allowed the help to partake of without garnishing their wages to ensure no loss on her part. You clinked the neck of the bottle with the bottle Maul had leaned toward you and tipped the warm brew into your mouth. It was sickly sweet but had a slight burn as it went down your throat. It warmed your belly as it went down, and you suddenly felt like you didn't need a blanket wrapped around you.

'You've been in town for a while now, m'lady. And still loyal to Haelga, all with that quiet, unsuspecting demeanor. Make a fine thief.'

Your eyes widened before you glanced down at your bottle, feeling a little exposed in that moment.

'Oh, surely you jest. Me? No no. I'm just, just trying to get by on my own.'

'The allure of the Thieves Guild was not what brought a beautiful woman like you to a place like this, hmm?' He stepped closer to you, the rumble in his chest almost reverberating in your ears as his voice lowered in volume and octave. You were nearly gasping for air as he enclosed on your personal space, unsure of what his motive was in this moment. He worked for Mavin, and you'd royally pissed her off - well, her son Sibbi, at least.

'I...I mean, it was fantasy, sure, but...I never...I'm not that type.'

'You could be, though.' His voice was breathy as you felt it fan across your skin; the way it tickled at the tiny hairs on your face made your skin raise with goosebumps as he spoke, so close and so seductively.

'Beautiful woman, sticks to the background, inconspicuous. Yeah, you'd be perfect, m'lady.'

His finger brushed down your arm as you felt like you needed to squirm under his touch - not for fear, not for discomfort - but you felt slightly more turned on by this encounter than you probably should've been.

'I don't miss much, Y/N. I have seen you in Haelga's Bunkhouse nightly when I'm making my rounds. Maven runs a tight ship, and although your little altercation with Sibbi might have left a sour taste in her mouth, I'm mighty impressed. A woman in Riften not jumping at the chance to bed a Black-Briar, or someone in their inner circle is an amazement.'

Your eyes flicked up at him, not sure why he suddenly took such an interest in you. You had seen him chatting up the other girls, merely watching you from the corner of his eye. You yourself admired that he didn't seem to bed any of the women who threw themselves at him, though he was truly right in Grelka's desire to bed him.

'Maul,' you breathed, your back feeling the touch of his large hands as they pressed slightly to pull you toward him. 'Sire, this is…'

You couldn't object, couldn't even tell him how badly you did or didn't want him before your lips were being gently kissed and nipped at by Maul's mouth. It was as though he was starved for touch, for physical desire, for lust. And there again, a fire began building once more in your gut, sweeping up your chest and lodging within your throat as your hands laid flat on his steel armor. Your fingers pushed up toward his neck, desiring to taste what little flesh you could with his armor still on. One hand dropped back down to his chest and gently pushed him away, your lips now swollen and a deeper shade of pink that made a jolt of energy shoot up the back of Maul's neck.

'Maul, I do not even know you.'

Maul gave a cunning smile before his lips parted to speak.

'Well, I presume we should begin shortly, should we not?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requests open


	4. Vilkas - Follower (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas spots the Dragonborn (and Shield Sister) in civilian clothing while atthe markets. He sees her in a different light and enjoys what he sees, stalking around before things heat up at Jorrvaskr

Vilkas POV

When Farkas had told him how she came in at the right moment, her arrow piercing through the giant's knee before she dropped her bow and wielded her daggers - her hunched body hurling into the downed opponent before she claimed his life by jamming the sharp ebony weapons into the neck of the beast, he couldn't believe it. Her - that simple looking Nord woman, no different from any others he had seen wandering around Whiterun on a typical day. Though she was a beautiful Nord woman, he couldn't believe his ears when he heard his twin speaking about her like she was some sort of blessing from the divines: that she came at the right time with the right prowess to put down the beast they were slaying. Then, to his amazement, she demanded to join the Companions. Who was she?

Vilkas remembered her tending to business within Whiterun - intimidating the right people, taking care of the right job - she was well on her way to at least being trustworthy. But then came the hunt for the Wuurthrand fragment. He remembers vividly her face when she came back; Farkas a good pace behind her as she immediately trekked down to the lodging beneath Jorrvaskr to retreat to quiet as the Companions spoke amongst themselves.

A couple weeks later, Vilkas found himself heading to the marketplace. He thought nothing of it, just a typical day of needing to grab some personal items from the Huntsman, maybe listen to some of the divine awful rumors that floated around town, and take in some Black Briar mead before heading back. Once he left the Huntsman, his pack swiftly slung over his shoulder - he saw her. Her attire was strikingly different than he was used to seeing her in - a blue dress with a brown corset laying over the bodice, sinching her already curvy waist and showing her feminine body. Vilkas felt his mouth suddenly dry, his throat felt a lump in it as he froze outside the merchant's door.

She was coming from the blacksmith shop - possibly speaking to Adrianne about some weaponry, though he knew her weapons were currently being tended to by Eorlund at the Skyforge. Vilkas did not care as to why she was there - she was a friendly Nord, always looking to make a good impression wherever she went. She had been out of Whiterun for a couple of days, tending to personal matters - so she said. But the moment he saw her all but floating up the pathway toward the marketplace, Vilkas felt like a scoundrel for trying to keep himself from her line of sight, but he was enamored with watching her: the way she moved, the way her hips swayed with each step she took, the way the curve of her back was so prominent, and the view of her chest was a sight to behind. Her collarbones were prominent and breathtaking - his breath caught when he closed his eyes briefly and imagined his teeth grazing over her milky white flesh.

She entered the apothecary, probably for potions and remedies for her next adventure. One thing he admired about her was how prepared she always was. In a moment's notice, she could be ready to set out on a week's long mission for the Companions, or anyone who required a bit of help. Vilkas watched her push her way into the merchant's building before he turned to head back up to Jorrvaskr. There was no point in practically stalking his shield sister since he knew at some point, she would head to Eorlund for her weapons when he had completed his servicing on them.

Vilkas couldn't shake her image from his mind. Though he found her attractive when in her full light armor, he saw her less often in her civilian attire which made this day a special one indeed.

\----

Your POV

You walked toward your room, ready to put your pack away. Your attention was directed on your task at hand, you hadn't even noticed Vilkas sitting on the chair just down the hall from the room, his hands folded together in front of his mouth as he watched you enter and swiftly leave your room. You caught his eyes upon noticing him and gave a kind smile, which he returned with a courteous nod. Your heart skipped a beat slightly when you felt a blush tickle at your cheeks.

'Alchemist have all your supplies this time, shield sister?' Vilkas spoke deeply as you went to grab the doorknob to exit the quarters. You smiled and dipped your head down before taking a step back and slowly making your way toward the beast of a man you'd spent little time around, but enough to know he piqued your interest.

'Arcadia got a fresh supply. Glad I skipped on the adventure today. I feel I've been too busy lately.' Your fingers brushed against the table as Vilkas dropped his ankle from being crossed over his knee, his hands laying flat on his thighs as a slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips. You loved his dark features - he was a typical Nord man, but the dark mane and eyes of him made him a bit of a mystery to you...one that you desired to unravel and discover more and more.

'Aye. Eorlind sent word your weapons are sharpened and ready for battle.'

Your brow raised as you crossed your arms, amused with the man's words. 'You seem to be one step ahead of me, Vilkas. Been spying on the newest Companion? Making sure I'm who I say I am?'

Vilkas rose to his feet which caused your stomach to dance with butterflies as you dropped your arms from your chest. He took a step forward, and even though every fiber of your body begged for you to reciprocate with creating more space between you, you stood your ground and kept your eyes glued to his.

'You are a mysterious one, Y/N. But you have proven yourself a worthy ally, someone I can trust as a shield sister.' His hand raised as he took hold of a loose strand of hair that had fallen to your shoulder from your casually done braid. His large fingers fiddled with it and twirled it, taking in his soft and silky it was - no doubt, freshly washed. His own butterflies danced around in his stomach when he imagined you bare, back turned to him as you waded in the water of the nearest lake.

'Vilkas…' you breathed, 'I saw you today.'

His eyes slowly raised back up to yours, not alarmed or concerned that his cover had been blown. No, he was impressed with your senses.

'I have never had the pleasure of seeing the curve of your body in such attire as this.' He said as his hand stroked up the side of your torso and found refuge on your hip. His fingers pressed and pulled you into him more as you felt the metal of his armor pressing into your abdomen.

'I can sense your desire, shield sister.'

'Y/N,' you breathed, your eyes closed as you allowed the sensation of his body heat to rush through you, only wanting more and more of him.

'Y/N,' he smiled as he brushed his thick finger down the crook of your neck and trailed it along your collarbone - not an hour ago had he merely dreamed of this moment, and now he was deep into letting lust and desire take over. His beast blood boiled as he tamped down his wolf form that tried pushing itself out. Taking hold of your hand, Vilkas looked around and grasped tightly.

'Come.' He whispered and you gave a nod before he began leading you down the hallway, knowing exactly where you were being lead. He opened the door to his quarters and lead you in before securing the door behind him so as not to be disturbed. He caged you in, your back pressing into the wooden door as his hands laid on either side of your head. If he was anyone else, you would be in a slight panic for you were unarmed and practically defenseless, though your limited knowledge in magic may come in handy in such a situation. But for now, you were racing for a high that you needed to satisfy - the desire for him billowing within your core as your chin raised and you felt his breath fan across your cheek.

The silence was not deafening, torturous or undesirable. You thrived in hearing your rhythmic breathing line up with his own, your chests rising and falling as if you had both run from a pack of wild animals that you knew you could only out run and not beat. Your hand raised and flattened against Vilkas' chest, causing him to look down at your hand connecting with his body.

'If you want me, take me.' You challenged. Vilkas smirked in a devious manner before his lips connected harshly with yours. Your breath pushed out your nose warmly as your hands reached up to his neck, trying to get a taste of any exposed flesh and settling for the nape of his neck for now. Hands began groping and desiring more flesh as you fiddled with the buckles of his armor. You cursed your personal preference in using light armor as you had very little idea as to how to disrobe heavy plated armor such as his. Vilkas broke the steamy kiss as he looked down, his hands still planted against the wall as he watched in amusement you fail at attempting to disrobe him.

He tapped your chin with a curled index finger causing you to stop immediately and connect your eyes to his. The smirk across his lips left you feel a familiar heat to start in your core and shoot up through your stomach. 'Allow me, m'lady.' Vilkas removed his hand from the wall and took a step back before releasing the buckles to his plated armor, leaving him in the fur line leathers that kept him from chafing under the unrelenting metal. Your hand took hold of his wrist as he went to release the strings keeping his clothing on, silently telling him you could at least tackle this.

Your lips found his and his hand pulled the back of your head into a deeper kiss as your tongues battled one another for superiority - you succumbing to him as your fingers nimbly undid his shirt and pushed it from his shoulders. You pulled away when you felt the shoulders of your dress being pulled down, leaving the cloth in a pool at your feet. You stood bare, nothing but your small clothes covering your most intimate parts that begged for his touch. Vilkas moistened his lips with his tongue, his hand rubbing his chin in appreciation of the scars, bumps and bruises that covered your curvaceous body. Nimble fingers traced up your sides and over your bosom as you inhaled sharply forcing your chest to press more into Vilkas' exposed chest.

You felt triumphant and Vilkas all but dove his mouth into your neck, his lips pressing before teeth nipped and tugged at the sensitive flesh, causing meals and moans to leave your swollen lips. Vilkas lowered his hand under your thigh and tugged it sharply to rest on your hip before he began pressing more into you: the stiffness in his pants fully formed as it rubbed against your now heated core, both clearly desiring one another in the most intense way.

'Vilkas…'

'Am I hurting you?'

The concern he had for you as he pulled his face away from your neck warmed your heart as your hands rested gently on his shoulders. You smiled in seeing the worry wash over his face as he seemed to worry his nips and bites might have been too much - the man was a lycan and had probably used his canine like teeth to pull and shred flesh before.

You shook your head and smiled. 'I am not made of glass, Vilkas.' Your teeth dug into your bottom lip ferociously as your smile continued to tug at the one side of your mouth. That was the permission he needed to pull your other leg to wrap around his waist before he quickly turned and tossed your body onto his fur covered bed like you weighed nothing.

Vilkas dropped his leather breeches to pool at his feet with no apprehension - you barely registered that he was bare before you when he began crawling up the bed and yanked your top small clothes off to swirl your bosom around his mouth. Your back arched intensely as a gasp fell from your lips. He took care to pay attention to the stiffening peak in his mouth whilst twirling the other between his fingers. You cursed under your breath as your eyes caught his gazing up at you over the rapid breaths you took, causing your chest to rise and fall quickly.

The feeling of his hardened member against your thigh was teasing to say the least. Your core was pressing into him, trying to silently tell him you wanted - no, needed him to ravish you fully and lay claim to what he'd wanted for what seemed like a while now. His fingers pressed into the wetness forming between your legs; one finger pressing in deeply causing your mouth to drop open and your back to arch off the fur covered bed before he removed it and pressed himself in with haste to make up for taking away a moment of pleasure.

"Divines!' You gasped as Vilkas pressed himself to the hilt, his body taking a moment to gain a familiarity and let the flutter of his head calm down, kindly also allowing your body to adjust to him. You felt his hands press into the bed near your head as your legs were swung up over his shoulders before he seated himself back on his haunches and dragged his nails down your calves before pumping himself in and out in a rhythmic fashion.

His eyes kept focused on your face as your head rolled back and forth, your eyes fluttering close as he smirked, knowing full well he was the one driving your head mad with pleasure.

'Look at me..' he breathed out, commanding but not in a demeaning way as your chin snapped up to make your eyes connect with his. His thrusts slowed as his mouth took hold of yours once again, but the ferocity of his kiss was changed to a need, a desire for intimacy that you have overlooked until this moment. There was no involvement of teeth, tongue or fire - just want for you and your bodies to be one.

Soon, his thrusts picked up as you gasped his name when he hit that right spot, his fingers finding the swollen nub that sent shock waves up your spine and down your legs: the intrusion in your core made the sensation that much stronger and easier for you to reach your peak and your wall clenched and tugged on Vilkas, sending a slur of unholy curse words flowing from his tensed lips and made his jaw tighten as his speed increased almost sloppily before he exhaled sharply and held himself close as a growl left his lips.

Vilkas' hands dropped beside your head as you relaxed your legs and allowed them to lazily fall from the man's sweat tinged shoulders. His head was dropped as if catching his breath from a vicious battle, his body as though it had been dropped to a muddy earth where he focused on his breathing and next course of action. Without thinking, your hand moved to drag your fingertips down his cheek, causing his gaze to flick up curiously to your eyes, his one eyebrow cocked slightly as though this tender action was nearly unsanctioned.

'I've loved you since I first laid eyes on you, Vilkas.' Your stomach almost lurched, your voice sounding in your ears loudly and you suddenly realized that you'd spoken out loud rather than just in your head. Your eyes widened at your faux pas and before you realized it, you were scrambling to push Vilkas off of you, wanting nothing more than to run out of the room and ignore what had just happened. But before you could push him away, Vilkas took hold of your hand and pushed you back with his other than, keeping you under him.

Without offering an explanation, Vilkas kept his eyes glued to yours as he moved in slowly and claimed your lips gently once more. 

'I won't be letting you walk away without a fight, Y/N.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requests open


	5. Argis -  My Thane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After dealing with a pain in the ass quest, you arrive back at your home in Markarth, only to be greeted by your housecarl who had remained up, waiting for you to return home from what you told him was a quick trip to the marketplace.

You'd never been so happy to see your humble abode in Markarth. Another innocent gesture to help someone in need turned into an absolute nightmare, one that could've been avoided if you just ignored the idiot who was stubborn enough to try and find Daedra worship in Markarth's walls. Well, jokes on him because not only was it Daedra worship, but it got him killed.

You protested, told him if it was Daedra worship, he wouldn't be wise to interrupt without more than just himself and a sword. Stupid on your part, as he recognized you as the Thane of Markarth and your reputation obviously preceded you. Your boots felt heavy as you painted and puffed your way up the steep path that lead to your door. Though you moved slowly, there was no doubt that you were relieved to see a candle flickering in the window, noting that your housecarl was up and about, regardless of the hour of night.

The heavy doors of Markarth's buildings gave your attempt at a silent entrance away every damned time. Even though there was a bit of a hall before reaching your main living quarters, you knew the sound of the door creaking open carried. With a swift motion, you locked the door and continued to carry yourself up to remove the heavy weapons and loot you'd recovered.

'My Thane.' Argis stood at the end of the hallway, greeting you as usual. It was always pleasant to see the Nord man, always prepared to drop whatever he was doing to accompany you, sort out your weapons or do any minor errands you had no time for. It was a good relationship, one that was relatively platonic, despite the casual flirts here and there. Your eyes only raised slightly as you approached him and handed him your shield and main weapon before continuing to plop yourself down in the wooden dining chair that sat at the table.

Your head dropped back as you exhibited exhaustion. 'That was more than a few moments, Thane.' Argis commented as he put your weapons on the rack and stood in front of you, waiting with his arms crossed like a scolding parent. You gave a slight chuckle as you reached for your hip and removed the mace of Molag Bal that you were awarded with after escaping that damned house. You dropped it on the table with little regard for the words the Daedric Prince spat out while your body ached from exhaustion. You shrugged as Argis glanced down at the mace and relaxed his arms, his face scrunching and brow furrowing, giving away his unamused thoughts.

'Quick detour.' You stated. Argis shook his head and took hold of the mace before he walked it over to a glass case and locked the ebony weapon up, knowing it was now part of your Daedric artifact collection.

'What? I still got my armor mended Argis. That is what I went out for.'

'Aye, but you stopped at that house, did you not?' You rolled your eyes and grabbed an apple off the table, taking a bite from it and suddenly having the overwhelming feeling of a young child on trial.

'I'd passed the Vigilant out there for weeks. Figured he was going to bother me until I helped.' Argis walked closer to you again, his fists placed on the table as he leaned in closer with a frustrated look on his face. Gods, but if you said you didn't feel yourself squirm under his gaze, you would've been a damned liar.

'My Thane. I requested to accompany you on that quest.'

'Aye,' you replied, continuing to chew on the bright red apple. 'I recall, but I was there, and it was fine. I am fine, aren't I?'

He was defeated. You never took your safety seriously. You were the Dragonborn after all - could tame a dragon, use shouts to distort the word to your benefit, wield magic better than any Nord he had seen, and had an amazing knack for battle. You were, in fact, a woman after his own heart: but he wouldn't admit that right now - not without a hell of a lot of mead.

'That you are, Thane. But it could've been worse. You had no idea what awaited you.'

'If I recall, Argis, no one did. The Vigilant said himself to be prepared for anything. He had no clue. Gods.' You huffed out in frustration, feeling as though this housecarl was going to be the one to really test your patience and worry about you just a little too much.

Sure, it was common knowledge that housecarls just served whomever the Jarl told them to, whichever person was lucky enough to be named Thane, so he wouldn't be out of a job without you. So you never understood why was he always on you like a school marm.

Argis grabbed your chin with his broad hand and turned your face as if to examine you. He ran his finger down a recent set of scratches to which you replied with a hiss from between your teeth.

'They're fresh, m'lady. As are the cuts on your arms. You also hobbled a bit more than usual.' He relinquished his hold and you ran your own fingers down your battered arm before straightening out the leg that was giving you some pain since finishing up at the Daedra house.

'It 'tis nothing, really.'

'Tis not nothing, my lady! With all due respect, the Dragonborn is not immune to death, let alone injury. These people need you - I need you. And if you are gone, what becomes of us then? Alduin, the Thalmore, the war? All pieces of what is tearing Skryim apart. You're the key to all this,my Thane.'

Your eyes shot up from your lap to see Argis' face looking increasingly more worried than you'd seen it before. Sure, it wasn't unusual to have people worried for you, but Argis? Big, bad, axe wielding, sword swinging brute Argis?

'I'm sorry, what was that you said?' You tilted your head, holding back the smirk from hearing a certain three words that pierced your heart. Argis' spine straightened as he looked rather pale in that moment, his hand began rubbing the back of his strong neck before he stuttered ever so slightly.

'You, uh, you are the key to all this.' You rolled your eyes. He knew you'd heard it all, you were insisting on making a point.

'No no, Argis.' You stood slowly, pushing the chair from you as you straightened your legs. One step, then two steps made your body come closer to his as you felt a certain tension begin rising in your chest and around the room. One thing was for certain, the Dragonborn was not afraid of a little confrontation.

'You said something rather interesting - interesting to _me_. And I just need to hear it again, to make sure I heard you right and that it wasn't a mistake.'

Argis cleared his throat. You stood close to him, and his armor began to feel like it was suffocating him. 'I. Well, my Thane. We all need you, and I guess, I need you as well.' Proudly, you smiled.

'Is that the Dragonborn you need? Or is it Y/N you need, Argis?' His eyes widened as the sultry way in which you conversed with him was borderline erotic.

The tone changed, the atmosphere shifted, and he felt the sweat begging to drip down his spine.

'Because everyone needs the Dragonborn, but not everyone needs the woman hiding behind the Dragonborn title.'

You stood toe to toe with the hulking man now, your fingers linked behind your back innocently as Argis tried to keep his hands at his sides, for fear that he might reach out and take hold of you against your wishes.

'My Thane, are you testing me? To seek out where my intentions lie? They are pure I assur-'

Before he could even attempt to explain himself, you grabbed his armor and pulled him into a passionate kiss. Your lips molded around his nearly frozen ones as his blonde beard tickled at your lips the moment you made contact. Without much of a delay, you felt Argis place his hands on the small of your back and pull you in comfortably to him, your belts clinking into each other as the metal nearly linked together.

Your eyes sealed gently shut, enjoying the moment with the man who was right in front of you, consistently worrying for you, ensuring your safety when walking the streets of Markarth, and would accept the call to assist you outside the city's walls had you asked. He was a man of honor and Nord pride, much like you. It never crossed your mind, all the times you had relied on him stalking behind you or going in front of you to secure the passage. He was not just another housecarl, but he was your friend as well. Now, the lines were blurring, and you were quite sure that the fervour in his kiss was not merely based on his friendship with you.

Your hands slid up his chest to feel for the clasps on his steel armor. With one tug, you opened the clasps and released the armor from his chest. Argis allowed you to remove his chest piece and then pull his cotton tunic and furs from his torso, leaving his chest bare and exposed. You seemingly had to admire him, never seeing him bare chested even on accident whilst living together for the sake of him being your housecarl.

Gentle fingers traced down his muscular chest, down his pectorals and over defined abs - clearly his great sword kept him in shape, plus the hours of combat training he partook in when the time allowed for it. Based on your last visit back to Markarth when you happened to come across him finishing up some training, you were rather impressed by his agility and strength, though the thought of it now made your thighs clench together to quench a heat building.

'My Thane.' You kissed his scruffy jawline gently, lips barely touching his skin as you stood nearly on tip toes, palms flat on his chest.

 _'Y/N, Argis_.' You whispered, your fingers finding his hand and you sneakily laced your fingers within his hand.

'Y/N, I would be a liar in the eyes of the divines if I said I didn't want this - want you.' A blush rose to your cheeks as you kissed down his neck and across his shoulder before pulling back and allowing your eyes to find his. 'But you are my Thane.'

Your brow furrowed, though you pressed your lips to his ear lobe quickly to hide your annoyance in him using your title, like it was a forbidden moment you were sharing with him. As far as you could tell, relations between Thanes and housecarls wasn't encouraged, but it wasn't outright banned. Besides, he wasn't merely servicing you: you wanted him - everything he was, every fiber of his being you ached to be close to.

'Tell me you don't love me, Argis.' You pulled away slowly, your fingers remaining entwined with his own as your hand cupped his cheek and your thumb brushed ever so gently. 'Tell me everything you have done for me hasn't merely been out of duty to me.'

'I...no, my Thane.'

'Y/N.' You corrected once more, but no annoyance showed in your tone as you placed his hand that was currently holding your own on your hip and released your grip to link your fingers behind his neck, as if about to do an impromptu dance.

'You forget you are not my _only_ housecarl, Argis. I have others, others who feed me the same line, time after time, from the first moment I met them. _My sword is yours, my Thane._ Yet even after getting to know them, after, yes eventually beginning a friendship with them, their duty to the Hold is more powerful than their duty to me. A Jarl could dismiss them from my service in an instance. And I can tell you which ones wouldn't bat an eye at leaving to serve the Jarl. But you, Argis. You are of a different breed, a different specimen that seeks me first, and then your Jarl.'

Argis smiled, his eyes trying to stay downcast as looked at his other hand landing on your hip and slightly pulling inward to himself.

'Aye. When I first laid eyes on you, I could not believe the stories, the legends about you. Then you were Thane of the Hold, and I your servant. You are truly the Dragonborn, but even if you weren't, I feel I would walk halfway across Nirn just to feel you in my grasp, smell that mystical fragrance of yours, and taste your sweet, soft lips. You have captivated me, Y/N.'

Inexplicably, the lust turned in a matter of an instant, to a warmth in your chest - one of which, you had never been privy enough to have felt it. Your head dipped slightly, chin downcast almost out of embarrassment, fear even. You traveled, carried the weight of Skyrim's political and general problems on your shoulders. There were many times that you gave into the primal needs of yourself in order to escape reality, even if the next morning it would rear its ugly head and bite you in the ass. Regardless, you knew kissing Argis wasn't the same as your other lust fuelled flings, but now; now you had this odd feeling which had never visited you before.

Your palms grew clammy, your knees nearly buckling as you kept your stance but tried not looking at Argis. You felt embarrassed, but when his fingers tipped your chin up to force eye contact, suddenly you felt reassured - he wasn't the same, this situation wasn't merely you two trying to forget the horrendous world outside. No, you two were interwoven, wanting to relish in one another and begin a story.

But something caught Argis' eye - a glimmer from the light of the fire catching on a metal chain around your neck - the amulet tucked underneath the armor you adorned that day. Gently, his fingers tugged at the amulet, and you nearly lost your breath when you remember which amulet you had haphazardly worn that day.

'Is that an amulet of Mara?' Argis cocked an eyebrow at you as a blush covered your cheeks. He smirked slightly as he dropped the intricate amulet and let it gently fall to your chest.

'I..I mean, yes at some point I _may_ use it for...you know, _that_ but...I - I use it for my restoration spells. Less mana' You held out your hand which exhibited a warm, orange glow which you flattened your palm to send a jolt of healing toward Argis before you sheathed your powers and shrugged.

You could tell that look in Argis' eye was rather playful, like he had caught you in some sort of predicament. It was a rare occasion to have the Dragonborn flustered and under his thumb.

'Well, Y/N. I promise you won't be needing to search far if you desire to use the amulet for what it is meant for.' His hands pulled your hips into his firm, uncovered stomach. Your hands braced you from the impact against his chest as you smirked at the man who held his own shit eating grin on his face, mirroring your own.

'Interested in me, are you?'


	6. Ralof - Rescue

Her breath shook as her body slammed against the cave; the burning sensation intense as she grabbed her thigh with both hands and gave into the temptation to look at what caused a warm sensation to begin flowing down her bare leg - blood. As she looked at the back of her leg, she attempted to reach for the long steel-tipped arrow that was now lodged into her muscle.

It was stupid of her to try and stop the bandits that were running off with a damned family heirloom from someone she didn't even know, much less care about their sob story, but she felt compelled to trot into that cave like she was some kind of savior. Stupidity never felt like it had a poster child, but now, she knew it was her.

Solveig slammed her back into the entrance of the cave in an attempt to make herself seem small and unnoticeable in the increasing darkness of the night. She'd told no one of her detour, and knew the bandit chasing her down would find her, kill her, and take the small gold dragon claw back, along with all her worldly possessions she had on her. Her breathing increased as her eyes clenched, nearly missing the sound of an arrow whooshing past her face, followed by the heavy thud of something falling nearly at her feet. When Solveig opened her eyes, she looked down to see a bandit with an arrow to the throat - an instant kill.

Her body felt like it suddenly weighed a ton; her knees buckled and she knelt on her uninjured knee and pushed her hand through her knotted Nord hair. 'Are you okay?'

That voice.

She looked up, her vision blurry from the adrenaline leaving her bloodstream as a man came into view. Those blue eyes, that blond hair, the beard. It sounded like any other Nord man, but the Stormcloak cuirass gave her the peace of mind to know who her savior was - though she damned near couldn't believe it.

'Ralof?' She sighed, almost having a smile appear on her face as her eyes glossed over. With the feeling of her body giving out on her, Ralof lunged to catch her before the dirt became her refuge. His strong, battleworn arms coddled her as her face landed within the crook of his elbow. And with that, darkness became her silent comfort.

XxxxX

Days passed. Weeks maybe. She couldn't have known how long it had been, but the days were long for Ralof as he paced about Gerdur's home where Solveig rested. Luckily for the Nord woman, she was off frolicking in a cave not far outside of Riverwood. Ralof had gone looking for herat to see if she had returned from Whiterun, but his discussion with Carmilla at the Riverwood Trader revealed that Carmilla's brother, Lucian, had mentioned the claw that had been stolen by bandits. Solveig had gone alone, and Ralof couldn't help but have a bad feeling about Solveig's safety.

Solveig laid there for days as her body didn't want to deal with the pain. The alchemist helped with herbs and potions to keep the woman subdued, but Ralof's heart couldn't wonder if his friend was gone for good - another victim of the harshness of Skyrim. But with prayers and potions, she seemingly pulled through. Eyes soon fluttered open, much to Gerdur's surprise as she was preparing meat after another successful hunt from her husband, however Ralof was off to the Falkreath Stormcloak camp to attend to some business, possibly to inform Ulfric of his fate after Helgen.

Within a few days, Solveig was ready to make her way out of bed. It was a new experience as she was helped out of bed by the woman who had tended to her so kindly over the past few weeks, ensuring her injury remained cleaned and her body remained medicated - neither of which she was obligated to do, but felt she owed it to her brother after Solveig and he were destined for the chopping block at Helgen no more than a month prior.

Solveig was deep in thought as she stood at the water's edge behind Gerdur's home. She loved the little family that resided near the mill in Riverwood, but she needed a break. Frodnar was a sweet boy, though a little too over enthusiastic about his uncle belonging to the Stormcloaks - the kid would make a fine recruiter one day.

Her attention was stolen from the clear water before her as she heard light footsteps behind her. She dipped her head slightly, knowing there was no need for fear in that tiny little village. When she saw the man approaching her, her heart leapt with joy as she tried to keep her emotions contained - her arms remaining wrapped around the fur she had borrowed from Gerdur since the chill of the evening was quite bitter.

'Solveig. Talos be praised you are well.' Ralof entered her vicinity much to her pleasure, as his hands grasped at her biceps with a fervent grip. His smile almost cracked his rough skin as he showed his true satisfaction in her health. His eyes looked down, slightly dissatisfied that her legs were now covered with a long dark green dress, more than likely borrowed from his sister. Unlike when she was traveling, Solveig wore traditional Nord woman's clothing, which made his heart skip a beat that much more.

'I am well, much thanks to you and your family, Ralof.' She tipped her head in thanks and dropped her hands from her arms when Ralof released his hands from her. Ralof turned to face the water slapping against the embankment just beneath their feet; the moonlight bright that evening and shining back at them, lighting their meeting 

'Aye, we take care of our own. Nords must look out for one another.' Ralof tried to resist the temptation to hold her hand as Solveig dropped her hand from clutching to the fur wrapping around her shoulders, causing their knuckles to brush together. When Solveig looked down, she saw Ralof wiggle his fingers slightly as if missing her touch. She raised her eyes to his, a smile curving at the edge of her soft lips. 

Solveig's eyes were warm and kind, that of a dream. He had always had the typical fantasy of going off to war and coming home to a beautiful Nord woman who would take care of his home, his children and his family. She was everything his dream included, though her desire for adventure seemed a little more than he would've liked in a woman, but he still couldn't help but feeling butterflies swirl around his stomach as their eyes met.

'How did you know where I was? I left without a word to anyone, in my foolishness.' Solveig let her eyes cast down to the ground as she felt a cool breeze waft through her hair.

'Gerdur told me you went to the Trader for supplies after coming back from Whiterun. I figured I would check with Lucian, see if he knew.'

'That he did. And what of the claw?'

Ralof smiled and reached behind his back, pulling out a coin purse and taking hold of Solveig's hand before placing the purse in her open palm.

'Returned and a generous reward for the brave Nord who retrieved it.'

Solveig let out a slight smile as she pressed her fingers into the purse and then tied it to her belt. 'I….I never got to say thank you, Ralof. If you hadn't shown up…'

'The divines were watching out for you that day, my friend. You seem to be blessed by them more than any other person on Nirn.'

Solveig let out a chuckle as she let her eyes fall again for a brief moment, only to look at Ralof who was looking at her with nearly hooded eyes. His hand raised unexpectedly and took hold of her cheek with a tenderness she didn't know the man possessed. From what she gathered from the amount of time she'd spent with him, he was a gruff man, definitely a Nord and definitely a solider - a man willing to fight and die rather than lie down and accept defeat for the sake of ease.

'You are a truly magnificent woman, Solveig.' Ralof's voice was barely above a whisper; his words seemed to be carried by the cool night breeze, though his hand was pulling her ever so slightly into his space. Their lips brushed together before Solveig felt herself press into him, her hands landing on his shoulders before her fingers trailed up to his jaw.

The kiss deepened, grew with passion as their lips battled gently against one another. When the kiss broke, they both seemed spellbound by the spontaneity of it all - their eyes remaining hooded and drunken smiles tickling at their lips. Solveig dropped her eyes, seemingly embarrassed about the whole thing, but Ralof took charge and grasped her hand with his.

'Come with me to Windhelm, Solveig. I cannot bare to be away from you. Ulfric will see to it that you are cared for.'

Solveig sighed, knowing full well the duties she had to do, the duty she was about to do before she got side tracked by that golden claw - the Graybeards called, and she had no choice but to answer.

'Ralof, I...I can't. I must make haste to Ivarstead in the next few days.'

Ralof's brow raised. There was nothing worth going to Ivarstead for, unless one had business there. When it clicked in his head, the Graybeard's shout, the whispers and murmurs of this Dragonborn, his mouth nearly dropped open.

'It...it's you?'

Solveig shrugged and gave an unsure smile, not sure exactly how to break it to him that she was more than either of them originally thought.

'I plan to speak with Ulfric, Ralof, I must. The more I try distancing myself from this whole thing the more I'm being pulled in. It seems the divines have other plans for me, plans that I cannot avoid.'

Ralof's hands cupped the sides of Solveig's face once more, her hands raising to cover his as they surveyed each others eyes, like they were committing every detail to memory.

'I will not rest not knowing if you're safe or not, Solveig, but you must follow the guidance of the divines.'

Solveig's thumbs brushed back and forth against Ralof's hands tenderly as he pressed his lips to her forehead. She relished his touches, and now she was craving his them like a Khajit craving the sweetness of moon sugar. When Ralof went to turn away from her, seemingly defeated, Solveig grabbed his hand tightly.

'Don't leave, Ralof.'

He turned his head, his eyes asking silent questions before he saw her shyly lower her eyes once more out of habit, scared of how he would accept the invitation she was about to present him with. 'I know of an abandoned cabin to the east. I cannot leave for what may be my last adventure without falling asleep in your arms.'

**Author's Note:**

> Requests open if you have a character you love or scenario you'd like to live!


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